


I Know All Your Faces

by lylo369



Series: What We Were, Are and Have Yet to Become [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lylo369/pseuds/lylo369
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What We Were, Are and Have Yet to Become-Part 3: I Know All Your Faces</p><p>Set post-A Good Man Goes to War, but with a younger, pre-Alex Kingston version of River sometime early in the Doctor's travels with the 'her' she was in her past. During an adventure in 15th-century France, something goes dreadfully wrong...or right, depending on how you see it. Warnings for angst, blood and hope. All characters are property of the BBC…I'm just having a little fun with them.</p><p>*Note for the note: THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN BEFORE WE FOUND OUT THAT MELS WAS RIVER, HOWEVER, I'M LEAVING IT AS IS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know All Your Faces

"No, no River! Hang on! For god's sake, hang on!"

It seemed as though they had been running forever, and although River was trying her best, she was barely clinging onto the Doctor as he dragged her injured body through the forest. What pieces of armor she was still wearing were probably putting enough pressure on her wounds to keep her from bleeding to death, but they also made it harder for her to move, much less for him to carry her. Fortunately, the Tardis was finally in sight. All she had to do was hang on until he got her there.

"Can't…go further. Hurts…" she muttered between strained breaths and coughs, blood trickling from her mouth.

"Don't be stupid, River! You _can_ ," he replied as he eased her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Hold on to me. We're almost there."

In the distance, he could still hear the sound of battle raging on the plains of Orléans. He had told her that they were getting too close to the action, even in disguise. But River had always been frustratingly intrepid…from the very day that he met her in her own future. She just _had_ to see Joan of Arc in person… _had_ to test out her own fighting skills. But as considerable as they were, they were no match for a thousand arrows-definitely not an _accurate_ one at that-launching at them from every direction, and the guilt jarred him. He should have _made_ her listen, should have insisted they leave, but up until this reckless exploit, his indulgences of her youthful curiosity had been mostly harmless, amusing and educational. He had never imagined she could get hurt; she never had before…not like this. And yet deep inside, a part of him knew this day would come. This was River, but it was not _his_ River. This was the grown-up version of the young girl he rescued from the clutches of Madame Kavorian. This was the daughter that he promised Rory and Amy he would teach and protect..his protégé, a neophyte Time Lord in training. He should have learned by now to stop promising them things that he could not guarantee. How could he have forgotten that in order for her to become the woman they knew, she would _have_ to regenerate? And how could he, of all people, have forgotten that the thing that usually caused regeneration in first place was _this_? Regeneration came from pain and danger and things gone wrong, and although he had given thought to how many times it might have happened before _,_ he never thought about how many times it might happen again- _needed to happen again_ -before she became the woman he knew.

He forced the unpleasantness of the thought out of his mind as they made it to the Tardis and stumbled through the doors into the familiar glow of the main console room, but before they could even make it to the stairs, River slumped to the floor, unable to go on any further.

"Something's wrong…" she cried, "I think I'm dying."

"You're not going to die, River. You're going to be fine. Your body will heal itself…just hold on."

He dashed up the stairs and grabbed a medical kit from a compartment in the center console and returned quickly, kneeling by her side to tend to her wounds. Her armor was pierced at the midsection and he knew it was bad because now there was so much blood that he could barely tell where else she might have been injured. Her deep, brown eyes were glazed over and her sandy brown hair was matted to her head with dirt and blood. She had already been rather pale, since this incarnation had inherited Amy's porcelain skin, but now it she seemed almost grimly wan, and it terrified him. If it had been him, it wouldn't of mattered, but why her? Why did it have to be her?

River winced and dug her fingers into his arms when he injected her with something for the pain. "I'm scared," she gasped, her voice low and raspy, "It feels…different. Feels…like…I'm _really_ dying this time. I don't want to die."

The Doctor looked into her eyes and stroked her cheek, his hands completely stained with her blood. Then as gently as he could, he took her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest partly to comfort her, and partly to comfort himself.

"You're not going to die, you silly, silly girl. You're going to be fine, I promise you. You'll regenerate and you'll be fine."

"But I'm only _part_ Time Lord." She answered, her voice quivering. "What if-what if I don't this time?"

"Shut up! Of course you will! Remember? I have met you in the future. I've seen what you will become and I know that everything is going to be alright."

"Right," she smiled weakly, her hands tightening around his braces as if she was holding onto him for dear life. "I forgot." She barely got the words out of her mouth when her body flinched in agony again, and he could feel it-every bolt of it-coursing through the endless network of nerves in her body. "Oh, bloody hell," she groaned, "I hate this part. Please, Doctor, talk to me. Tell me what I will be like in the future."

"Spoilers," he whispered jokingly, squeezing his eyes closed tightly to keep the tears from betraying the emotion he was desperately trying to hide.

"Rubbish. That word…it's _rubbish_."

"Ah, you say that now, but someday you're going to sing that word to me so many times that people are going to think _you_ started saying it first."

"Never," she laughed faintly, her brow furrowing as a few tears escaped down her cheek.

"Try to be still and save your strength, River. It won't be long now."

"Tell me. Please…"

Her eyes pleaded for him to distract her from what was happening inside of her body, and he realized that he _needed_ to talk her through it…just like his companions had done for him on those occasions when he wasn't alone during regeneration. He never told them back then how much easier it had been when there was someone there to talk him through it. He never told them many things that he probably should have. He would not waste the chance again.

"Alright then." He slipped his blazer off very careful so as not to lose his grip on her, and wrapped it around her shoulders as if it might shield her from harm. "Well, I suppose the first thing that I can tell you is that you will be quite mad."

"Bollocks," she murmured with a twisted grin, "don't lie to me."

"No, really! You _will_ be absolutely, uncontrollably mad. You'll almost always do the exact opposite of everything I tell you to do, and will constantly drag me into the most impossible predicaments. But you will also be rather clever and extraordinary exactly when you need to be, and I don't know why or how, but you're really going to fancy guns-which I shouldn't like, but sort of do. Oh! And somehow you will seem to enjoy hurling yourself from buildings and star liners and other ridiculous heights while expecting me to just be there waiting to catch you ever time. And what else?" he hums to himself. "Ah yes. You'll love the adventures where you get to dress up the best, and will roll your eyes and make the most marvelous faces at me when you're cross."

"I will be cross at you often, I wager."

"Yes!" he laughed wistfully. "And you will tell me that you hate me _all_ the time, but I'll know that you don't."

"I don't…" she answered softly, raising her hand to stroke his cheek, her eyes struggling to stay open.

He covered her hand with his, squeezed it reassuringly. "No, you don't."

Her body felt light in his arms and he could tell that she was fading. But she was also getting warmer, and he knew it was almost time. She moaned faintly and shuddered, clutching onto him with what was left of her strength.

"Stay with me, River. Look at me. Concentrate and breath..."

He cupped her cheek and turned her face so that her gaze locked onto his intensely. He could feel her fear pouring out of her as clearly as he could see the blood pooling on the floor around them, and tried with all his concentration to force it away from her…to comfort and console her with his own thoughts, but her body was screaming into his…imprinting him with her pain and longing and trepidation.

"More… _please_. Tell me more."

"Oh River…there is so much to say. But it can't be told. It has to be lived. You told me that once. And you will live it brilliantly, River…so very brilliantly."

"Okay," she answered barely audibly, "But…will I at least get to be a ginger? I always loved my mother's hair."

The Doctor managed a strained chuckle and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead before a trace of sadness came over him. "No, you won't be a ginger. At least I don't think so. I actually really don't know which ' _you'_ is coming next-if it's the _'you'_ that I think you will be or an entirely different _'you'_ than the one who crashed into my Tardis with the red shoes and the biting wit and the most incredible, distracting hair...all curly and twisty and dancy about your face. You're going to be magnificent, River. You already are."

The tears trailed freely down her cheek now as she beamed at him tenderly, tracing his nose with her finger until they suddenly both gasped in shock. The familiar glow had started to envelope her hand with orange-pink tendrils of light that wrapped themselves around her fingers and extended up her arm while a warm, white aura radiated around her face. The time had come.

"It's okay, River, don't be afraid."

"Don't let me go."

"I won't. I'm here. I will _always_ be here. I promise you. I will be there for you no matter where you are or _when_ you are or who you are. And wherever you jump from, I _will_ catch you. Each and every time."

River exhaled forcefully, and a wispy, golden plume swirled out of her mouth along with the words _"Thank you"…_ which hung in the air with such a preternatural serenity that it nearly undid him. But it didn't have a chance to.

Her body started to jerk and stiffen in his arms, and she screamed...a deathly, painful, horrific scream as the flames of regeneration shot out from her in every direction. The energy blasted through the Tardis, shaking her violently and sending debris flying all around them, but even then, he didn't let her go. He knew it was risky, but he huddled her tightly to him, close to the floor so that the force of the temporal waves wouldn't hurl him across the room. He felt her body shifting and changing in his arms, bones and flesh, curves and angles, hot and cold, light and heavy…and the energy wrapped itself around him, boring her essence into him until it became a part of who he was, breaking him down and building him up at the same time so that he cried out along with her. Then, as the metamorphosis ran it's course and her face started to fade away in the glow, her lips tried to mouth something to him. He couldn't hear the words-he could barely even make them out-and yet at the same time, he knew that he didn't actually need to. Without her even knowing it she had written them indelibly on his hearts, marking her presence in his life for the rest of his days. _"I love you."_

Within moments, his young protégé was gone and everything grew still again in the Tardis.

He lingered there quietly, while around them the sound of sparks and creaking metal echoed along with his own, heavy breath and the sound of the Tardis' engines. He could barely focus in the dim, flickering light, but he could still feel River in his arms, the rise and fall of her chest letting him know that she was still alive. She had done it. She had one more in her.

He used the sleeve of his blazer to gently wipe beads of sweat and dirt from her forehead until he could see her clearly, and then, while the corners of his lips curled up into a relieved smile, he tangled his fingers through the mass of wild, golden ringlets framing her face. _His_ River's face.

"Hello, Sweetie…"

  


* * *

  


Next chapter _-"Thus We Shall Go to the Stars"_


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